Letters to My Future Bride

I’ve written about finish linesbefore but it’s the same lesson realized again every year…once you approach or cross that finish line, you remember that there is one, that you can do it. The same goes for your long wait. Perhaps you bear up under it more bravely than I. For your sake I hope so.

In the midst of preparations this morning, I jotted this on one of my many pages of notes:

At times like this, times of stress and testing not just of your mind but your mettle…you want someone in the trenches with you, or at least writing you from home, whose picture you can hold or letters you can read and reread, whose words echo in your ear as you rush the enemy line: “You’re going to be fine. Look how far you’ve already come. I’m proud of you, and I love you, no matter what happens. Now go get ’em!” Why else do men fight in wars, or push themselves to be better, if not for their women?

Otherwise, there’s nothing. Today’s success defines the entire day, the entire term, and if dire enough, the entire year’s outlook. It’s a be-all and end-all. I will rise or I will fall.

It does seem a pity there’s no one standing by to wave the flag and welcome me in. And it’s fine, I’m no more deserving than the hundreds of other pupils doing the same. Alegfast told me good luck, my sister messaged me the same. I’m old enough not to need banners and a welcoming committee when I come home, war analogies notwithstanding.

Ah, but you should see the to-do lists! So many affairs to set in order, neglected areas of life to straighten. Then there’s the camping and biking, the boating and hiking, the traveling and the triathlon I’m planning for. Last summer may well have been the best ever, and I’m hoping for this summer to be equally as epic. I would welcome your presence for this one.

I spent some time on the front stoop these past few evenings. It’s a great time to watch the sun set behind the trees and the line of houses. It’s the cool of the evening, which, right on schedule, is turning pleasingly mild. Runners pass, and cyclists. The birds are loud and proud to salute the approaching night. Spring’s honeymoon phase is ending; the white blossoms are fading away, replaced by budding greens. I’m glad we have sunsets as a finite reminder that our day has a dawn and a dusk, just as our lives will. It gives us time to reflect on our takeaways and if we spent our hours wisely…on the decisions of the day and how they shape our tomorrow.

I’m liking this pastor, and he’s reminding me once again that mankind doesn’t often need to be taught about what is right or wrong, but we do need reminding. For example, God is the source of our strength, don’t you agree? For believers who have made any study of the Psalms, this is common knowledge. Yet to observe over and over in the Word how success was not necessarily the result of a person’s character or heroism, but because the Lord blessed it. Working out? Studying? Training? All very helpful to mortal eyes, but it’s God who determines the outcomes. In the ancient days, people actually developed a reputation because “his God is with him.” I’m not sure how best to quantify if God is with you, and Christ’s name is Immanuel, God with us. But it does mean picking sides, causes and allies fairly careful doesn’t it? And furthermore, does the sovereignty of God ever sometimes seem frightfully convenient to the church? All the good that you do is God’s doing, God’s blessing and your own skill and decisions, the work and stress you put into them to affect a better outcome, are but the tools He uses. But if something bad happens, it was your fault? (Overlooking the obvious fact that sometimes God teaches best through adverse outcomes, and that our own skills exist only by the grace of God.)

Other points reaffirmed on Sunday: Nothing takes God by surprise, ever. Harmful spirits can come from God. The righteous can expect to suffer for doing what is right.

Of further consideration my dear…Hebrews 10:24-25: “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”

On this I wish to address two points. First, to spur each other on. I have thought of opportunities for how I might be spurred on, how we together might find opportunities to stretch ourselves in outreach. How else can we grow if we don’t stretch? But outreach is tricky; I have encountered the “poor” many times, done what I could for them. But in trying to satisfy both the dove and serpent requirements of Psalm 18:26 and Matthew 10:16, I’ve often questioned these people closely in the process, or observed their response. Many are honest in saying they ask only to support their vices, not their daily needs. The hand of charity must be guarded closely, nor dealt too lightly and quickly. Greater harm can be done if care isn’t taken.

But I have been evaluating the situation here, wherein you and I have not found one another. As well, it’s been brought to my attention that healthy role models for boys and young men are needed. And I am beginning to contemplate involving myself in these places, with or without you. But for when your opinion can affect these outcomes, what do you think of helping run a prison bible study? What of a babysitting night for kids, even special needs kids? What about mentoring children whose parents are in jail, or fostering children whose parents don’t care? What about sponsoring a child, or children overseas? (I plan on doing this already this summer…related not so you will think better of me, but to spur you on to greater deeds of love yourself!)

On the second point, to encourage one another. There are certain people who seem extremely capable of this, as if it truly is their gift to be happy and positive most of the time. I would be lying if I didn’t tell you sometimes I wish I was more disposed to be like them, inclined to look always at the brighter side, and possibly even feeling that inner cheer. I’m sure clouds darken their sun as often as any, but it is their impact on others that I want to replicate. But then, maybe they don’t see the things I see. Maybe they haven’t been through the same darkness, or feel the weight of loneliness and drive to achieve. Maybe the world really does need some people who are a half-cynical, half-caring, and who know what darkness is and how to carry it. Sometimes…sometimes I’m attracted to darkness, not because it is dark, but much the same way a firefighter runs towards smoke or a soldier runs to the battle. Sometimes I’m attracted by the darkness in someone’s eyes that tell me they too have seen darkness and know what it is, the eyes that have faced the same demons and are a little wiser for it.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between fertile thoughts and frenetic ones, but regardless, the thoughts are set free by a reduction in stress and obligation. I write them not just because I find them interesting or because I want to read them and remember, but because I am interested in the poetic clockwork of your mind, and could not ask for anything I cannot willingly give in return. These years may be dark, but let them not be silent! Let them at least produce a harvest of letters from the past for when we meet.

For you my dear, I write the pictures I cannot paint…the pictures which I’d like to see through your eyes.

About

Welcome. You’ve stumbled upon the secretest of treasure troves; love letters to a woman I’ve never met. Luthien, the love of my life, my future bride. Until time and time’s Author release her to me, I am hiding the poems, laments and love-sick lullabies tucked away here, in a quiet corner until we meet; private words spoken publicly. You are invited to tread among these sacred thoughts, and may by some grace be encouraged in your wait, and to remember your own love, your own value and the precious rewards of waiting.

Your comments, likes and shares are welcome. If you have questions, a letter may find its way to my door if addressed to LetterstoLuthien, by way of the courier known as Yahoo.